Cabs and consequences: Booked. Cancelled. Repeat

Bhaiya, aap aa rahe hain, na? ” is a sentence I say at least ten times a day – to reach office and to return home. I try to start my day early, but I’m almost always late. Not because I’m doing a GRWM for my imaginary Instagram followers, but because booking a cab has become a full-time job – minus the salary, benefits, or dignity.

Earlier this week, after multiple cancellations across every cab aggregator known to mankind, I finally got a booking. That’s when the real drill began.

In most countries, once a cab is confirmed, you relax. Here, confirmation is just the beginning of negotiations.

Step one: You text, “ Bhaiya, aap aa rahe hain? ” No reply. Step two: You call. If they answer, a rapid-fire questionnaire begins, designed to test your patience and moral fibre.

‘Aana kahan hai?’ ‘Wahan toh hum nahi jaate.’ ‘Paise kitne dikha raha hai?’ ‘Payment option kya hai?’ ‘Toll ke paise company nahi deti, aap alag se dena.’ ‘ Aapki location bahut andar hai.’ ‘Road kitni badi hai? ’ By the end of it, I feel like I’ve cleared a KBC round – calmly, politely, without losing my temper.

The cab finally starts moving. For a brief minute, hope returns. It gets closer. Then closer still. And just when it’s a few minutes away, it stops.
I panic. He was coming. We had an understanding! And then comes the notification – “We are trying to find you another driver.”

Why?! I answered every question. I behaved well. I showed patience, courtesy, and emotional stability. What more does it take to book a cab in today’s world? Do I show them my credit score? Submit lane measurements to assure them their car can enter and exit safely? Sign an affidavit promising punctuality and silence?

Eventually, I accept my fate. I will be late. Again. Another driver accepts. Same drill. Same questions. This time, I answer without enthusiasm. He says he’s coming. I don’t believe him – but he does.

I sit inside the car. Victory. Immediately, he starts complaining about my destination. I ignore it. I think, at least we are moving.
Five minutes later, he pulls up and says, ‘Madam, CNG bharwana hai .’